“As soon as we are seen they will give chase, but we must do our utmost to get under the batteries of Aix before they reach us. We have a good excuse for running away.”
More sail was set on the frigate. It was a question, however, whether she could reach the shelter which was sought for, in time. Several of the English ships were seen making sail in chase.
Edda Armytage looked out eagerly towards them. She at all events had no wish to remain a prisoner. Some wild hopes, too, rose in her heart as she understood that the pursuing ships were frigates.
“They will not overtake us, young lady,” said the captain, who observed the nature of her thoughts. “I would rather, too, that you did not indulge in the wish, for I cannot bear to see you disappointed.”
“Thank you for your kindness, but it is but natural that I should wish to be free,” she answered, endeavouring to smile.
She fancied, by the countenances of some of the other officers, that they had not the same confidence as the captain. She observed the point for which the French frigate was steering, and it appeared to her that the English ships were just as near. This gave her hopes. Still she was afraid that the French would fight, and that there would be a desperate struggle before they allowed their ship to be captured. She was not aware that the French frigate was to windward of Rochelle, and that the English were some way to leeward, which gave the advantage to the former. The ships were, however, rapidly approaching each other. She saw, indeed, that even the captain thought that there might possibly be a fight, for the guns were being cast loose, and powder and shot were brought up on deck.
So much engaged had everybody been in observing the movements of the English fleet on the larboard beam, that no one had been watching the proceedings of the little felucca which had been on the other side. A loud oath from the lips of Don Tacon gave them notice that something was wrong, and looking out over the starboard bulwarks she was seen close hauled under all sail, standing away to the southward. The old man walked up and down the deck, throwing furious glances at her, while he stamped and swore, and tore his hair.
“The rogues, the villains, the scoundrels, to desert me thus!” he exclaimed. “To take advantage of me when they saw that I could not pursue them. Who is one to trust in this world? My curses go with you, you knaves!” he shouted, shaking his fist at the far-distant vessel. “Ha! it is some satisfaction to know that none of you know anything of navigation, and that you will cast yourselves away to a certainty. May every one of you be food for the fish before many days are over!”
No one pitied the old pirate, and he was allowed to rave on without interference.
The frigate tore through the water—the breeze was freshening. This was all in her favour. Still the British ships were coming up fast; the leading frigate began to fire her bow chasers, but the shot fell short. She waited for some time. One fortunate shot, and the Frenchman would be her prize. The forts on the island of Oleron could now be seen clearly with the naked eye. The English frigate drew still nearer. Captain Gerardin judged that she was nearly within gunshot. “Ladies, this quarter-deck is no longer a place for you,” he said, addressing Edda and her mother, and the Spanish young lady. “I regret to drive you from it, but I must use the authority of a captain, and order you below.”